


a trip for two

by miss_tatiana



Series: poe party but gay [2]
Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, bigtime canon divergence, dont uhhhhh drink or smoke kids that shits bad for you but warning for both of those, ernest is The Worst, i love hg so much???, i tried to stick as close to the tone of the show as possible so this is sort of comedy, tried to keep it as close to the show as i could
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13977156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_tatiana/pseuds/miss_tatiana
Summary: “Are you speechless?” Ernest raised his eyebrows, lit his cigarette. He had a huge smile on his face. “I’ll admit, I’ve never done that to an author before. We’re generally hard to shut up, aren’t we?”HG cleared his throat, and then he cleared it again, and then he pulled the cigarette from his lips. “I don’t- I don’t smoke.” He felt like a live wire, like everything, even his clothes on his skin, was making sparks.-hg almost dies in the attic, but ernest saves him. hg, who of course has a Huge crush on him, takes advantage of their time alone together.





	a trip for two

**Author's Note:**

> there's little pieces tweaked here aside from the obvious hg is alive change, i e he was up in the attic alone but other than that it fits in with canon pretty well. i tried really hard to get into the mood of the series with this one and tried to do the dialogue like it's written in the show, which was a fun challenge ! anyways i love these gays

There was so much smoke, and the attic was just so small. Concentration was the most dangerous factor in many an asphyxiation case. HG tried to keep his thoughts straight as he stumbled around the tiny room, looking down at his inventions, shrouded by smoke. If he could just get the ones he needed and get out of the attic, everything would be fine. But he couldn’t even coordinate himself enough to pick one up, and he could barely think over his own coughs. 

Light poured into the room that fell in contrast to the warm lamps that lit the attic. There was a quiet, “Oh, shit,” and then another person came up into the little space. 

HG allowed himself to be dragged through the room, and he couldn’t find enough of his voice to ask any questions of Ernest, who’d appeared seemingly right in the nick of time. 

“Hey,” Ernest said, putting HG’s arm around his shoulders so they could move more quickly through the room. “This is pretty hot, right?” He’d been doing that all evening, asking people - mostly Charlotte - if various things he did were turn ons. 

“I can’t breathe,” HG choked out. It was just a little further to the door. If he could just make it to the door, he’d be alright. 

“Right.” Ernest’s voice became more serious, and he pulled HG the last meter or so to the door, got them both through, and slammed it behind them. “That was close, huh? That bastard almost got you.” 

“My inventions,” HG managed to say. His throat was raw, and words were painful due to the amount of smoke in his lungs. “They’re- they’re all in there. If the killer gets them- I need to go back.” He looked up the stairs at the door, knew that just behind it was all of his precious work. 

“Listen, as far as I can tell, no one’s going to walk in there knowing how much smoke’s inside,” Ernest said. “Well, unless they wanted to die.”

HG slowly got his breath back, sitting down at the bottom of the stairs up to the attic. “I was working on something, a sort of- monitor, if you will, that could allow us to see what was happening in places we aren’t. I thought-” He rubbed his eyes, trying to get the sting of smoke out of them. “I thought we could use it to figure out who was killing us. That power in the hands of a murderer-” He sighed, trying to exhale even the smell of the smoke. “We’ll all be gone. He’ll get us all.” 

“Damn it.” Ernest started back up the stairs. “Damn this, damn that stupid invention, and damn you. I’ll be right back.” There was a reluctant heroism in his words, and before HG could say anything, he’d gone back into the attic. 

HG watched the door, waited, and he could feel anxiety like a physical thing in his chest. It dawned on him that Ernest could die in there. And it would be his fault, he’d have killed someone over one of his inventions. And Ernest, of all people. He wasn’t sure if he’d survive the night without Ernest. Not only had the guy rescued him from the smoke, but he also seemed to be the most - only? - capable person in the house. 

He waited some more, becoming progressively more terrified. It was on him, it really was on him, he’d guilted Ernest into thinking they needed the invention to stay alive. It had been his own fear talking, and he felt useless. His lungs hurt and his throat hurt but there was a pain in his chest that he couldn’t attribute to smoke. He told himself it was guilt. He probably wasn’t far off. 

The door creaked open and Ernest nearly fell down the stairs. He had in his arms a pile of wires, antenna, gears, and the monitor. “I wasn’t-” He stopped, coughing. “I wasn’t sure which was which, so I took the ones I thought looked the most interesting.” He coughed some more. 

“I thought you were dead,” HG said, getting up and going to him, halfway up the stairs. “I thought- god, I thought you were dead.” 

“Do I look like the kind of man who would just die?” Ernest quipped, still struggling to breath. He shook his head, and tried to smile. “Plus, I haven’t figured out who the killer is or hooked up with anyone at this party, both of which I need to do before I let someone take me out.”

HG knew he should laugh, but he was still residually scared. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Ernest scoffed. “I’m fine. It’ll take more than a little bit of smoke to kill me.” He sounded half dead already. “Were you worried about me?” He raised an eyebrow, and a smile spread across his face. 

“You have my most important invention yet,” HG said, deflecting what Ernest had actually asked him, and letting his worry melt away in favor of relief. “Of course I was worried I might not see it again.” He pulled the monitor out of Ernest’s arms and set it down by the stairs. 

Ernest stared at HG for a moment before speaking. “We need to take this stuff down to the others and you can do whatever with it there. Let’s make it quick, though, because if someone was murdered while we’re gone, we’ll be at the top of the suspect list. Do you need me to carry these wires?”

“I’m, ah-” HG felt the pressure of a question on him, and froze up. “I’m perfectly capable of carrying them myself, if-”

“Do you want me to carry them?” Ernest looked over at him knowingly. 

“I’d… I’d like you to put them down,” HG said tentatively, looking up and down the hall. Although the smoke hadn’t gotten him, he was aware that there was a possibility of his death. He knew that he couldn’t stand the way Ernest looked at him for much longer without doing something. And he was sick of being scared, and all of that added up to a sudden boldness that he hadn’t expected. He tacked on a, “Please.”

“Sure.” Ernest dropped the wires, rods, and gears with much less care than HG would have wanted. “What, do you want a drink?” He pulled out his flask and offered it. 

HG winced, looking down at the pile of materials. “Um, I…” He couldn’t think of a polite way to refuse, so he took the flask and tried to swallow some of the liquid. It burned in his mouth, and sat wickedly at the back of his throat. He coughed, and managed a weak, “Thank you.”

Ernest laughed and downed some of the stuff before tucking the flask back away into his coat. “Alright, are we ready to go?”

“No, I-” HG stepped over the pile of wires to reach Ernest, and let his fingers brush the bit of Ernest’s collarbone that his shirt failed to cover. “Not yet, if that’s alright.”

“Oh,” Ernest said, under his breath. He let out a laugh that tapered off nearly before it began. “I thought for a second that you were the murderer,” he admitted, “and you were trying to keep me up here so you could kill me. Wouldn’t have worked. Just so you know, I have multiple knives on me at all times.” There was a sort of smile playing at his lips now, and he put an arm around HG’s waist and pulled him closer. 

“Good?” HG didn’t know how to respond to that. Before he could say anything further, Ernest was kissing him. He almost froze up - almost - but he caught himself in time and told himself to relax. He’d been dancing around wanting this all night, finding excuses to hide behind or touch Ernest, and now- Ernest burned on his tongue just like the whiskey had and was somehow more intoxicating. 

Ernest leaned back out of the kiss. He had his trademark grin on.

HG tried and failed to come off as unaffected. He was a little out of breath, and he was definitely blushing up to his ears. “I- I- um-” He started to mess with his vest, smoothing out the wrinkles in it as his nerves returned. “Thanks.” 

“No, thank you for starting this,” Ernest replied casually, flicking a hand back and forth between them. “Nice little de-stresser between murders, huh? Want a smoke?” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes. 

HG was torn between ‘I don’t smoke’ and ‘I was literally just nearly killed by smoke’, and ended up just staring at the way Ernest could flick the pack open and shake a cigarette out with one hand. 

Ernest chuckled, looking right into HG’s eyes. He held that eye contact as he pushed the cigarette - painfully slowly - between HG’s lips. He froze, gave HG a once-over, and then looked down to pull a cigarette out for himself. 

All HG could hear was his own heartbeat in his ears. He tried to take a breath, and it caught in his throat. He’d just gotten over the kiss, he couldn’t handle this. 

“Are you speechless?” Ernest raised his eyebrows, lit his cigarette. He had a huge smile on his face. “I’ll admit, I’ve never done that to an author before. We’re generally hard to shut up, aren’t we?”

HG cleared his throat, and then he cleared it again, and then he pulled the cigarette from his lips. “I don’t- I don’t smoke.” He felt like a live wire, like everything, even his clothes on his skin, was making sparks. The hallway seemed too warm. 

“Suit yourself.” Ernest shrugged. He sighed, and smoke curled around his head. He waved it away and leaned down to kiss HG again. 

This was wonderful for anxiety, HG realized. He was stuck in a house with a murderer who’d already tried to get him once, and he wasn’t scared if he didn’t make a point of thinking about it. He just felt good. He could taste the smoke on Ernest’s tongue and he didn’t even care. 

“You’re bad at staying on task,” Ernest commented, eyes trailing down to the pile of wires on the ground, and then over to the monitor. 

“You’re worse,” breathed HG. But he did realize that they’d wasted enough time already, and that there were more pressing matters than kissing Ernest Hemingway. He bent down and retrieved the wires. 

“I never had a task to begin with,” Ernest pointed out, and he extinguished his cigarette against the wall before going over and picking up the monitor. 

“You’re still worse.” HG tried to balance everything in his arms. “Your idea of foreplay was- was just talking about your knives.”

“And yours was dying in an attic, apparently. We all get off on something, who am I to judge,” Ernest muttered. 

HG rolled his eyes, and they started off down the hall, taking the inventions to the rest of the party. “You’re- you’re-” He couldn’t think up anything good. It felt so natural to be able to joke around like this, and it took more of the tension of the night away. 

“A handsome gentleman?” Ernest offered with a grin. 

“Yes,” admitted HG, looking up at him. 

Ernest winked, but his smile became less mocking and more genuine. He shook his hair out of his face. “Listen, I have a little skiff - a yacht, really - and a spot for it right off the coast of Cuba that’s just waiting for me when this is all over, and a night in Havana is no fun alone.” 

“You- what?” HG was trying to picture it. It didn’t surprise him that Ernest sailed around the Caribbean in some fancy boat. It did surprise him that Ernest would bring it up now, and suggest what he thought he was suggesting. 

“The sunsets there are to die for,” added Ernest. “You seem like the kind of guy who might enjoy a sunset, if you were to look up from your strange machines. Do you like sunsets?”

HG couldn’t tear his eyes away from Ernest. He felt his heart swell in his chest. He hadn’t expected to be romanced, and it was almost too much for him to handle. “I do. I like sunsets very much.”

Ernest gave him a gentle nudge, and another wink. “Then I’ll plan on a trip for two.”


End file.
